


the long way round

by Sumi



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Getting Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-04-06 06:52:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19057450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumi/pseuds/Sumi
Summary: “There was a report of witches taking shelter in this cave,” Hennig answered with a loud, disappointing sigh. “You know, Bryn you didn’t have to tag along. I can handle this on my own.”He chuckled. “I’m aware your more than capable of handling yourself. I thought after our talk I may as well join you on one of your tasks. Do you ever rest?”





	the long way round

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rhovanel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhovanel/gifts).



The Frost Spider cracked with a loud splat, sending up a spray of blood. Hennig didn’t flinch as the blood splashed across her face. Months of fighting these abominations (and other unpleasant creatures) had desensitized her. They might be intimidating, but a well-placed swing of her sword and blast of magic would send the damned things to their deaths.

Beside Hennig stood Brynjolf who looked a little pale. He cleared his throat, quickly turning his back on the remains of the spider. “Lass, remind me what this is about again?”

Hennig sheathed her sword, not bothering to wipe off the blood coating the blade. This would only serve to waste time. She wanted to get in and out of this cave in the shortest amount of time possible. Despite popular belief, Hennig did not enjoy skulking around in dark caves full of Frost Spiders, falkner, and maker knew what else. The preferable setting for Hennig was a quiet forest where the only threat was from the occasional bear or wolf. If the blood ruined the sword, she’d get a new one.

“There was a report of witches taking shelter in this cave,” Hennig answered with a loud, disappointing sigh. “You know, Bryn you didn’t have to tag along. I can handle this on my own.”

He chuckled. “I’m aware your more than capable of handling yourself. I thought after our talk I may as well join you on one of your tasks. Do you ever rest?”

The reminder of their ‘talk’ caused Hennig to bristle with annoyance. If she were a Khajiit her tail would’ve been standing on end.

Unfortunately for Brynjolf, the only evidence of her displeasure was the slight narrowing of her eyes and rigid body posture. It was a blink-and-miss-it situation.

"Probably better if I refer to it as our argument, isn't it, Hen?"

Despite the odds of Brynolf being able to figure it out, he did. He must've been paying closer attention to Hennig than she thought.

She gave a curt nod, the annoyance simmering down. "It was always 'I’ve got more important things to do, lass. We’ll speak another time.'"

Brynjolf hadn’t given Hennig the time of day until she got sick of waiting. She had stormed into the Guild one day and no one dared to get in her way. Hennig had found Brynjolf hunched over a desk, furiously writing something.

In no certain terms, she had demanded from well across the room that he get his head out of his arse and speak to her. If he had reason to avoid Hennig then say it to her face. Avoiding her was nothing but the coward’s way out. Hennig had then stormed out without giving Brynjolf a chance to process her words let alone respond. He kept avoiding her so Hennig refused to give him the luxury of being able to speak with her.

Not more than a week later, Brynjolf had found her sitting on the top floor of the Bee and Barb Inn. She had only just arrived in town, but the Thieves’ Guild were everywhere in Riften. Certainly, one of them heard of their Guild Master in town and reported back to Brynjolf.

"Lass, can we speak?" He’d asked as he approached, voice full of hesitation.

In the time they'd known each other, Hennig rarely saw Brynjolf look nervous. The only other time she could recall him being this way was with the whole Nightingale debacle.

Hennig had turned to him, face bare of all emotion. "There's been some trouble a few miles out so I'm here to gather some more supplies before I head out and that's all."

Brynjolf's face had fallen breifly, but he’d masked it well with one of those teasing smiles she normally loved. "Mind if I tag along with you, lass? Always a good idea to have a companion if things go wrong and in your line of work, it's more than likely to happen."

The offer was a tempting one. Hennig had mulled it over and eventually agreed.

Now looking at Brynjolf, Hennin wondered if he felt out of his depth. Traveling with Hennig automatically meant one would be facing some amount of threat to one’s life. Unfortunately, it came along with traveling with the Dragonborn.

He sighed deeply. "When this is done, we'll have a talk. If you want to that is."

For the first time since their argument, Hennig felt the anger fade away. She shot Brynjolf a genuine smile and nodded.

"Do you need a minute or are you good to continue?" Hennig asked matter-of -factly.

She knew none of this was what Brynjolf normally dealt with. The fact that he came out here with her did mean something. Hennig needed to acknowledge that fact and she did appreciated it more than Brynjolf would ever know.

"As best I can, lass," he admitted. "Is this what you face every day?"

"Yes, and sometimes there are even dragons."

Hennig gave him another smirk before she motioned for Brynjolf to follow. The sooner they finished, the better. A Dragonborn's duty never seemed to be done. Even so, a night or two off couldn't hurt.

There encountered a few more frost spiders along the way. The farther they got into the cave, the bigger they were. Apparently the more dangerous creatures preferred to linger in the darkest reaches of Skyrim.

Hennig had explored worse areas than this. A large majority of the time she was alone without the help of a companion. In the beginning, there weren't many others to call on for help. Now, Hennig found herself with friends (the word still sounded foreign to her) willing to put their lives on the line for her. It never ceased to surprise her.

The deeper they walked into the cave, the more Hennig realized it was only a matter of time before they stumbled across a witch. Bit tough on the eyes to look at, but Hennig could be accused of the same thing.

Getting the right side of your face mauled by a wolf as a child left some long lasting marks. The few jagged scars running over the entirety of the injured side of her face. And her eye, a cloudy, white color signifying loss of vision. Either people walked a little faster when they saw her or chose to walk in a completely different direction.

Hennig heard the witches long before she saw one of them. She motioned for Brynjolf to quiet as they slowly crept closer. Years of wandering taught Hennig a thing or two about stealth. One couldn't go charging into every situation hoping for the best. Hennig was not her brother Bjorn. How he managed to survive thirty-three years would always remain a mystery.

When one of the creatures came into her line of vision, she readied her bow and arrow. It connected with its shoulder, eliciting a high-pitched screech from the witch. The other witches immediately became aware of their presence and swarmed. Hennig tensed, refusing to let them get the upper hand. She had come this far already.

The witches attempted to get the upper hand on them. One of their attacks grazed Hennig's arm, but it was nothing more than a superficial cut. She deflected the next blow, ending the witch’s life with a well-placed flaming arrow. Another one came up behind, trying to strike Hennig while her back was turned, but they too met their demise.

A quick glance in Brynjolf’s direction showed he was handling himself fine. Hennig never worried about Brynjolf being unable to handle himself in a fight. It was why she had no qualms about letting him come along on this task with her. He did, however, look to be shifting into a state of shock after the last witches body hit the cave floor.

Hennig reached out to firmly grasp his shoulder and give it a good shake. He blinked, slowly coming out of it and back to reality.

“Are you fairing okay, Bryn?”

He took a shaky breath and sighed. “Aye, I’m fine. I simply can’t wrap my mind around the fact that you do this every night.”

Hennig smirked. “I don’t do it every night.”

“All right, every other night,” he laughed. “Does that sound better, lass?”

“You know what sounds even better? Heading back to Riften and washing all this blood off.”

Brynjolf chuckled. “It’s a good look on you.”

She shot him a threatening glare but added a wink before turning towards the way they had originally come. They seemed to have an easier time walking into the cave then trying to get out of it. By the time Riften came into view, Hennig felt as if she could sleep for the next week. It wasn’t possible, no matter how tempting it might be.

Hennig led the way to Honeyside without any hint of protest or comment from Brynjolf. She was fond of the members of the Thieves’ Guild, but a quiet night in appeared to be the most appealing option. If Brynjolf intended on coming inside, then Hennig had a feeling they’d be having that talk soon. It wasn’t something Hennig looked forward too because she had no inclination of how it would go.

“I assume your joining me?” Hennig asked Bryn once Honeywell came into view.

Brynjolf nodded. “Aye, lass. Unless, you’d prefer to call it a night.”

“Bryn, if I didn’t want your company you never would’ve gotten this close to my home. I’d sent your arse back to the Guild the moment we entered Riften.”

It drew a laugh out of Brynjolf, which in turn, caused Hennig to chuckle. Her laugh wasn’t as loud or engaging as Brynjolf’s and nor did it happen very often. Since becoming Dragonborn, there wasn’t much to laugh about or enjoy. The few times it did happen was always around Brynjolf. Hennig took that a sign-- one she refused to put any thought into. For now, the only thing Hennig wanted to focus on was taking a much needed bath in order to get this blood off.

Hennig walked in first followed by Brynjolf. He shut the door behind him and Hennig set her mind to drawing a bath. She glanced at Brynjolf whose corner of his mouth quirked upwards.

"Go on, then. I can occupy myself for a while."

Hennig flashed him a thankful smile. "Feel free to use the bath after I'm done, Bryn. I imagine you want to get that blood off you as much as I do."

"I'll wash up in the kitchen. No harm in that," Brynjolf insisted. "Best to get in there before the blood hardens anymore, Lass."

Hennig walked upstairs to where she kept the tub. It took some time but once the water was her preferred temperature, Hennig shrugged off her armor. She climbed into the bath and let out a sigh of relief.

At this moment Hennig realized she could finally let herself relax. The world outside was burning, but Hennig needed to take a moment to breathe, sleep, or just exist outside of the title of Dragonborn.

No matter where Hennig went there was a title for her. Harbinger, Guildmaster, Archmage, Ysmir were just a few things they called her. Hard to imagine a little over a year ago she went by nothing more than Hennig.

She once intended on fleeing Skyrim. Hennig thought there might be other opportunities away from here, but apparently the gods had other plans. Everywhere Hennig turned there were things to be done. Perhaps, life hadn't been as difficult as she once thought before the Imperials picked her up with Ulfric that day.

The water turned lukewarm before the thought of getting out even crossed Hennig's mind. Eventually it grew too cold for her liking. At that point, she reluctantly stood and reached for the towel draped over the nearby chair. She quickly dried off and dressed in a light tunic and pants chosen before she started the bath.

Hennig was extremely happy to be out of that blood caked armour and into some comfortable clothes. She was due for some new armor, but things kept getting in the way. Perhaps now that she was back in Fifteen, the Guild could help her out. Of course. That was something Hennig could worry about tomorrow.

She quietly walked back into the den where she found Brynjolf. He was also devoid of his blood covered clothes and wearing what looked to be a pair of her housecarl Iona's trousers and his own undershirt. The sight drew a laugh out of Hennig despite her lackluster attempts to hold it back.

"Something funny, lass?"

Hennig bit back a snort. "No offense Bryn, but you look ridiculous in Iona's clothes."

"Aye, you're right about that," Brynjolf chuckled. "Suppose I best start keeping some of my things here. Never know when I'll accompany you on one of your many adventures."

The statement had a teasing ring to it, but it still managed to catch Hennig off guard. It reminded her that there was still a conversation to be had. Now that they were clean and Brynjolf had a fire going, there was nothing holding them back from partaking in it.

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

Hennig could never be accused of beating around the bush. She preferred to get straight to the point. Best to get it all out there and work to solve the problem rather than stick your head in the sand and ignore it.

Brynjolf must've been used to it because he didn't so much as blink at her question. All he did was sigh. "Would you believe I wasn't intentionally avoiding you?"

Her eyes narrowed. "No."

"Aye, I figured as much," he said with a chuckle. "It's true though, lass. After everything we went through with Mercer, I buried myself in guild work."

Hennig didn't know what explanation she'd been expecting, but Brynjolf wouldn't lie about something like that. Especially when it was just the two of them here. "I would've understood if you talked to me, Bryn. Next time try that."

This time Brynjolf laughed. "Believe me, I've learned my lesson about avoiding you. The entire guild is aware of the consequences."

"Well just make you sure you and everyone remember that." She shot him a look, but the last thing Hennig felt was annoyance. If anything, she was relieved they talked this out.

The two of them had been through a lot together in a short amount of time. Hennig can't imagine the mixture of emotions Brynjolf was experiencing after finding out the truth about Mercer. They were bonded not only as their duty as Nightingales, but individuals who were betrayed by those they trusted.

Hennig bit down on her bottom lip when she realized she had something else to say. "You've been a great friend to me, Bryn. I can't say that about very many people in my life and I'd rather not lose that."

Silence followed Hennig's words, making her wish she hadn't said anything in the first place. Eventually Brynjolf did speak in what seemed like many minutes later.

"You don't have to worry about that. I have no plans to go anywhere."

Hennig found a strange family in the Thieves’ Guild with the Companions a close second. Most of her blood family died years ago. In the case of Hennig's brother Bjorn, he might very well be alive.

The last time they spoke was nearly a decade ago. He wanted to settle down in the city while Hennig, herself, preferred to wander from place to place. It wasn't an argument that kept them from speaking, but rather life kept coming up. Even though they never saw eye to eye, Hennig did hope her brother was alive out there and thriving.

An ill-timed yawn from Hennig interrupted whatever else she or Brynjolf felt they had to say. She covered her mouth and realized alluding sleep simply was no longer an option. Hennig's body demanded sleep now. It was a wonder she could keep going given the week she'd had.

Dragons were popping up all over Skyrim. There were no shortage of them to fight. No shortage of souls to absorb. It was Hennig's life now, one she never asked for but found herself living anyway.

"I think it's best if we turn in for the night," Hennig told him, albeit rather reluctantly. "There's an extra room adjacent from mine. You can sleep there tonight."

Brynjolf nodded. "I'll speak to you in the morning then, Hen. Good night."

"Night Bryn."

Hennig went to bed pleased things were resolved, but she couldn't shake the feeling some things had been left unsaid between them. She almost turned back when she reached the top of the stairs.

This little nagging voice in the back of Hennig's mind kept telling her to go back downstairs and talk with Brynjolf. However, Hennig could never be accused of making the right decisions all of the time. She chose to ignore the voice and climb directly into the already turned down bed.

Sleep didn't come to Hennig easily, but it rarely ever did since she first discovered her ability to consume a dragons soul. Such magnificent, terrifying creatures they were. The first time Hennig faced one she thought for certain she'd die. Since then she'd been around dozens. Being killed by a dragon now seemed like less of a possibility.

After tossing and turning for a good hour, Hennig could finally quiet her mind so she could sleep. Unfortunately for her, sleep didn't prove to be the usual escape she found it to be.

~*~

The morning came and went in a flash. Hennig bid Brynjolf goodbye, with a promise to stop by the Thieves’ Guild as soon as she could find the time. There was a bit of a warning tone in her voice that Hennig couldn't resist adding. Brynjolf acknowledged it with a firm nod and wink. He followed it up with a small smile Hennig found hard not to respond too. Damn that man and his charms.

She hoped that ugliness was finally behind them. Hennig didn't care to fight with friends. The harsh approach was only used for those Hennig cared about in the most frustrating of situations.

It was a few weeks before she could find the time to return to Riften. She showed up early one morning, exhaustion wracking her lean frame. Hennig even felt like her pack was weighing her down more than it usually did. That was why the first place Hennig went was Honeyside.

The afternoon was starting when Hennig left her home in Riften. She walked into the Guild and spotted Brynjolf in his usual spot, hunched over the desk, writing on some paper. Her second-in-command appeared to be settling into the position nicely.

"Busy, Brynjolf?" Hennig asked once she reached his desk.

He looked up and smiled. "For you, lass? Never."

"I'm here for a few days. Is there anything you need help with?" Hennig offered. "I am technically the Guildmaster so I should perform those duties once in a while and not let them constantly pile onto your shoulders."

Brynjolf hesitated and then actually flinched. "Let me preface this by saying I'd appreciate your help, but not this time lass. I'm almost finished here."

The words Brynjolf were similar to what he told Hennig before, but the situation was different in many ways. Hennig could see that as plain as day. "I'll let it slide this time, Bryn. Next time you give me that excuse your desk will no longer be standing in one piece."

When he was finished, he glanced towards Hennig who had been waiting quietly nearby. "Finished."

"You know, I seem to recall you once telling me and I quote 'I've been at this game a long time, my friend. A long time. I've stolen trinkets from nobles and framed priests for murder. I'm good at what I do, maybe even one of the best. But it's all I know. I've never been one to lead. Never desired it, never cared for it. Don't want it'."

Hennig repeated what Brynjolf told her word for word. He blinked slowly, surprising overtaking his handsome features. She tilted her head to the side, a smirk playing on her lips.

After what seemed like minutes, Brynjolf laughed. "It's been months since we spoke of that. You have impressive memory there, lass. Yet another reason naming you Guildmaster was the best outcome."

She shook her head. "But Bryn, as second in command you're the one doing the day to day tasks and taking care of everything. You don't give yourself enough credit."

"Hen the flattery isn't necessary, but I can't say I don't mind hearing you compliment me," Brynjolf teased.

Hennig snorted. "Keep it up and it'll be the last compliment you ever receive from me."

The moment was broken when one of the other guild members dropped their training weapon. It clattered to the floor, echoing loudly throughout the room. Hennig resisted the urge to scowl and tried her best to regain her composure.

"Join me for a pint at the Ragged Flanagan?" Brynjolf asked, quickly recovering from the unexpected noise.

She grinned. "I thought you'd never ask."

By now, Hennig had drank at inns and pubs all over Skyrim. The Ragged Flanagan's ale wasn't the worst, but it definitely wasn't the best either. Still, she was able to down a glass in just a few sips.

When Hennig slammed her mug down onto the table, Brynjolf looked impressed with her performance. She was like her brother Brenton in that way. They were hardily made people-- or so her mother and father used to tell her. Hennig wasn't so sure about that anymore given how tipsy she was feeling.

"Save some for the rest of the room." Brynjolf winked as their eyes locked, earning a slight roll of the eyes from Hennig. "Any particular reason you're drinking so hard?"

Hennig leaned against the bar. "I don't have any particular reason this time. Hard to believe isn't it?"

She figured she could spend three days in Riften before heading to Windhelm to finish up her business there. Three days for a chance to speak with Brynjolf about what has been on Hennig's mind since they went after those witches.

After finishing half of a second drink, Hennig found a rather silly idea popping into her head. If she hadn't been slightly drunk, she remained convinced the words never would've been spoken.

"Bryn if you've nothing else to do today, why don't you stop by Honeyside and spend the rest of the day with me?"

He lifted a brow before winking. "Why don't we go now lass? I'm game if you are."

Hennig had been expecting a sort of response along those lines, but it still managed to catch her a bit off guard. She cleared her throat, struggling to regain her composure.

"Let's go then."

She didn’t often let herself get close to becoming tipsy let alone drunk. When it came to Brynjolf, Hennig always seemed to throw her sense right out the window. Damn that frustrating man. He was driving Hennig insane with all these mixed signals, making her do things she usually wouldn't consider. Best to do something about it now before it drove her mad.

When Hennig walked into Honeyside, she was relieved to see it empty. Iona had been here before she left that afternoon. Based on the lack of heat coming from the fireplace, Iona must've left a while ago. Probably for the best only Brynjolf witnessed the Dragonborn acting like a tipsy fool.

The first thing Hennig thought to do was get a fire going. She sat herself near it, enjoying the warmth it was giving off. Brynjolf joined her without needing to be asked.

"You'd think I'd be used to the cold after all the time I spend trapezing through the snow," Hennig commented as she shifted closer to the fire. She loved being outdoors, but only if she was properly dressed for it

"And you think I'm fond of the cold? I detest it as much as you, lass," he admitted before shaking his head. "Almost as much as you do, Hen."

She let out a chuckle of her own. The longer they sat there, the warmer Hennig felt. When she finally got the chill out of her bones, Hennig turned to Brynjolf. Finally, she felt like she could say what had been building inside since just before being named Brynjolf. At least, this was the intention before Brynjolf ambushed Hennig’s plans to confess to him and kissed her.

It wasn’t like Hennig hadn’t been dying to do the same exact thing to him since just about the moment she meant him. She just planned to be a bit more subtle about it. First they would express their feelings and then they could move on to other things. Brynjolf forced Hennig to throw her plans out the window, but when he attempted to deepen the kiss and practically pulled her onto his lap in the process, she realized she didn’t give much of a damn anymore.

Eventually the need for oxygen kicked in. However, neither of them seemed willing to be the first one to end the kiss. When it did end, Hennig couldn’t say for sure who did it first. All she could think was why it took so damn long to get to this point.

Hennig felt like they were dancing around this since around the time they met. When she first arrived to Riften, she was struggling-- only to be approached by this charming man sitting in front of her. He brought her in with his clever words and seeing that it led her here, Hennig felt she made the right decision in speaking with him.

“I can’t say I’m displeased with how this night is going, but why now?” Hennig asked curiously, despite the fact that she had been mere seconds from verbally expressing her own feelings for Brynjolf.

He chuckled. “I think I can pose the same question to you. It looked like you had something to say before I interrupted you, lass.”

Apparently, Hennig was more obvious than she thought she was being. It should be no surprise Brynjolf picked up on it.

“We’re both stubborn fools.” This was the only words Hennig could think to say. And why not? These words spoke the truth about who they were. Two stubborn fools who took the long way around to find one another.

“Aye,” Brynjolf said in agreement.

It was just one word, but Hennig could see all that Brynjolf meant with it. With that one word, it influenced Hennig's decision to cease their conversation and turn to a different route

They still had much to discuss, but Hennig truly favored taking advantage of the moment rather than finishing the conversation. She decided to be the one to take advantage of the moment this time and pressed her lips against Brynjolf’s. He responded just as eagerly as she had when he first kissed her. How indeed did they dance around their feelings for so long?

Sometime during this the two managed to find a blanket and dragged it out in front of the fire so neither of their bodies were against the hare, wood floor. It was there Iona unfortunately found them the next morning; tangled up in the blanket and each other. She made her presence known by kicking the front door shut with her boot. The sound caused Hennig’s eyes to fly open and nearly jump out from under the covers.

Finally, she noticed Iona standing in the doorway and blinked slowly. Hennig wasn’t easily embarrassed and even this didn’t cause her to fill with the emotion. Instead, Hennig felt irritated with herself for not telling Iona to not bother coming by that morning. If she had, it would’ve saved them all a bunch of headaches.

“Thane I wanted to see how you are faring this morning. Clearly I see that was a mistake on my part.” Iona said loudly, which wasn’t unusual for Iona. She always spoke at such a volume. “I’ll take my leave and come back later.”

Hennig sighed. “Thank you, Iona. I’ll see you later.”

After Iona had left, Brynjolf let out a deep chuckle. “That’s certainly one way to wake up lass.”

"I may have to get a new housecarl," Hennig muttered. She said it more for herself than anyone.

Hennig hoped Iona would continue to serve. She had become rather fond of her blunt manner. It tended to keep Hennig on her toes. This was especially useful whenever Iona traveled with her out of Riften. Admittedly, those times were rare for Iona preferred to remain here in the city  
However, if her Thane asked, she would follow.

"I doubt she'll leave you over this," Brynjolf assured her. "Perhaps next time we'll manage to make it to the bed."

Hennig responded with a teasing smile. "Bold of you to assume there will be a second time, Bryn."

He laughed and pulled Hennig into another kiss before she reluctantly had to break it. As much as she wanted to stay in with Brynjolf, she had to leave Riften.

Days ago, the Dawnguard had requested her presence. Hennig was in good standing with them since they concluded their business, but she had other things to attend too. If not for Serena specifically asking for her, she may have not even considering going.

She had things to do but chose to live in the moment right now. It was why her suggestion to Brynjolf had nothing to do with leaving. "I have to leave Riften today, but there's no reason I have to leave now."

The corner of his eyes crinkled with amusement. "Hen, are you propositioning me?"

"You talk too much," Hennig accused, her smile threatening to break through.

This time around they did manage to make it to the bedroom.


End file.
